


Person Things

by ThousandSunFury



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, POV Second Person, non canon compliant after civil war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 02:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10504326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThousandSunFury/pseuds/ThousandSunFury
Summary: Both Steve and Bucky's perspectives of their first meeting since the events of Winter Soldier





	1. Chapter 1

**Steve**

The first time you walk into your bedroom to see the silhouette of the winter soldier sitting stiffly on the foot of your bed staring straight ahead with steely eyes, you drop the glass of water you are carrying and rush forward without a thought. You kneel in front of him and grab his shoulders roughly, hoping to see any sign of your friend in the face you are looking into. For a second Bucky's eyes widen in some combination of terror and confusion and sadness all at once. You smile softly and loosen your grip slightly, trying to  be comforting. Bucky blinks and tries to speak. His voice is rough and it is clear he hasn't spoken in some time. He probably hasn't been eating or drinking either if the thinness of his arm was anything to go by.

    'I- I remembered-,' before he can finish his thought, something in him seems to switch off. There is a moment where there is nothing in him at all, and before you can even take a breath, Bucky's metal hand is suddenly around your throat and forcing you up against the wall opposite the bed. Bits of drywall and plaster fall onto your shoulder and into your hair but you don't take notice. You grapple with the hand, desperately trying to get free. Before you make any headway Bucky stops and loosens his grip. He turns around  as you slump to the ground behind him. He stares at his own hand like a foreign object. You can't see him slip out the window like he's done it a thousand times but you can just hear a gruff 'Sorry' before he goes.

You stay seated on the floor for the rest of the night, not wanting to sleep in the bed- too soft and too large, it still barely feels like yours even after living here for more than a year. You should get up and deal with the broken glass and spilled water in the doorway. You don't.

 

* * *

 

**Bucky**

You sit on the edge of the unfamiliar bed trying your best not to take up any space. You don't know exactly why you came here, but you also don't know exactly why you hadn't yet. You still can't really remember Steve Rogers, but you remember enough to know that wherever he is, you are supposed to be there too. Whoever you are. You're pretty sure you can't trust the museum displays to be completely honest about you.

You hear the footsteps and the crystalline crash of a dropped glass when he comes in. You don't look up. The rush of air lets you know he's coming over to you anyway. You flinch slightly when he touches your shoulder, but you don’t think he notices. Maybe he does. You still can't remember how people act like people so if he softens his grip because he knows he scared you or because he knows you recognise him, you can't be sure. You should say something. You look up now ‘I- I remembered-’. Even you can tell you’re voice sounds awful. He probably thinks you’re dying. You probably are dying.

Dying.

...

  
What? How did you-? You return to lucidity to find yourself holding him up against his wall. He can’t breath beneath your mechanically powered grip. Slowly you make yourself let him go. Why is that difficult? You don’t want to hurt him, why do you have to force yourself not to? You stare at your arm, unsure how to proceed. You aren’t used to this attachment yet. Sometimes you think it acts without you controlling it. Sometimes you think it doesn’t and you can’t tell if that’s worse. You need to go. You can’t look at Steve now. You can’t let Steve look at you, really. You squeeze out a small ‘sorry’ that probably doesn’t sound as sincere as it is and disappear. That’s one thing you do know how to do. Disappear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Steve**

About two weeks later he’s there again, this time standing by the window. You think he wants it to be easier to escape if something goes wrong again. He is definitely  thinner. You don’t want to startle him again, but he looks like he can barely stay upright. You fight the urge to literally carry him into the kitchen and make him eat and instead force yourself to stay by the doorframe. Maybe if you can get him talking you can convince him to come in on his own.

‘You fixed the wall,’ he remarks. Even as weakened as he clearly is, he strikes an imposing figure, but it’s such an ordinary comment, you almost forget the context, and you kind of can’t believe he said it. You laugh out loud; it wasn’t even that funny, but now you can’t stop. When you catch a breath you notice that he’s smiling a bit too. Just barely.

‘The landlady isn’t too happy with me, but she can’t exactly evict Captain America.’ He steps away from the window and into the yellow light of the weak incandescent bulb you haven’t gotten around to replacing yet. ‘Do you want…,’ you can’t actually think of anything specific once you start the sentence, you just know he needs food and probably medical attention, ‘...anything?’ you finish finally. He seems startled by your question, and doesn’t reply for a while. You think maybe he’s confused, so you say ‘I can cook you something, or get you a glass of water? If you want?’ You make sure not to say anything like an order. 

‘Milk?’ You smile at the meek request.

 

* * *

 

**Bucky**

You find yourself once again in Steve Roger’s bedroom exactly 12 days after you were there last. You don’t sit on the bed this time, you don’t trust yourself not to pass out and you don’t want Steve to walk in on you like that. You have to lean on the windowsill to stay on your feet. When Steve sees you this time he stays in the door, for which you are silently grateful. You try to stand up straighter when he shows up, but you wobble a bit more than you consider acceptable and lean back again. ‘You fixed the wall,’ you quip to cover it up.

Steve bursts bursts out laughing, and you can’t tell if he sincerely finds your comment that funny, or maybe he just really needs to laugh at something. You think you should laugh too, but the best you can manage is a small upwards pull at the corners of your mouth. That seems to be good enough for Steve once he notices. It’s a lot of effort so you’re very glad when he says something and you can stop. You make yourself step forward, properly entering the room you’ve been hovering on the edges of. You haven’t seen this room lit before. It’s nice. It feels homey, even though it’s only a small apartment. It’s similar to the apartment you and he shared before the war. You only know this because you visited the now empty building about a month ago. You stayed there for a few days, but you started remembering things and it made you feel ill. 

You barely comprehend his question when he asks it. You were preoccupied trying to process the surroundings fully, and you end up just looking at him confused, hoping he’ll repeat whatever he said. ‘I can cook you something, or get you a glass of water? If you want?’ 

‘Milk?’ You aren’t even sure you want that. You aren’t sure what wanting really is right now. It’s just the first thing you can think of, and at the mention of food you suddenly feel like you need it. You remember that you haven’t eaten much more than scraps, and one bowl of soup from a homeless shelter 6 days ago.


	3. Chapter 3

**Steve**

‘Yeah! Sure. Come in here.’ He follows you in and sits at the kitchen table when you gesture towards the chair nearest the door. You fill a green glass with the last of the milk. You’ll have to get more tomorrow. When you put the glass in front of Bucky he puts his hand around it but doesn’t pick it up. As if he’s waiting for something. ‘Hey, I have oreos! They cost a whole lot more now, but they do these double stuff ones that have twice as much creme.’ 

‘The creme is the best part.’ Bucky nods carefully. You were kind of just talking to fill silence at this point so the soft little reply is a pleasant surprise. Bucky always loved oreos, and he could never understand why you didn’t like them that much. Once he spent at least half an hour trying to convince you they were the actual best food on earth. After a couple of minutes you look over and he still hasn’t drunk any of his milk so you think it’s worth the risk to ask about it. 

‘Do you not want that?’  It probably isn’t the best way to phrase the question because he seems to take it as meaning he can’t have it and pushes it towards you. You wince, ‘No, i just meant, if you don’t want it i can put it back and it will still be cold for you later.’

‘It’s a lot.’ You can’t tell if he’s talking about the milk or not. He looks up and you can really see his eyes for the first time; still so blue but dimmed, none of the light you remember being there.  ‘Can I sleep?’ You should have really thought about this better, of course he would be tired. And to be honest, milk and oreos is probably not the best food to start off with after being on a starvation diet for who knows how long. You should have been preparing for him to come back, get help from Sam and Natasha on how to handle all of this. 

‘I’ll grab some extra blankets and you can sleep on the bed.’ He deserves a comfortable bed after everything. You are not good at this, taking care of people. You don’t know how Bucky handled it all those years when you were young. It’s been maybe an hour and you can’t begin to quantify how overwhelmed out you are.

 

* * *

 

**Bucky**

You follow him into the kitchen with great effort and sit down at the chair he points you to. You hope he doesn’t notice just how relieved you are to sit down. 

When he hands you the glass you don’t really know what to do with it. You would pick it up at least, make a show of trying, but for now just the feel of the cool glass on your flesh and blood hand is nice. ‘Hey, i have oreos!’ Steve says,‘They cost a whole lot more now, but they do these double stuff ones that have twice as much creme.’ 

You like oreos. You remember liking them. ‘The creme is the best part.’ You also like the little relieved expression on Steve’s face when you say it. Remembering is good. Steve likes when you remember.

It’s a quiet few minutes before Steve speaks again. ‘Do you not want that?’ You push the glass towards him in response. Apparently it’s not for you after all. He makes a face at that; you did something wrong. ‘No, i just meant, if you don’t want it i can put it back and it will still be cold for you later.’ Oh. Of course. 

You pull it back, but also you don’t want it really. ‘It’s a lot,’ you say in explanation. Later you’ll think back and realise you were talking about the whole situation. There’s a lot in your head, and a lot in this apartment, a lot that you’re feeling that you don’t think you ever would have been able to understand, and yes, a lot of milk in the glass. ‘Can i sleep?’ You ask instead. You finally let yourself look into his eyes. You haven’t been allowed to do that in a long time. You can tell Steve likes when you ask for something; when you show you can want things. It’s a person thing, so you should try to do it more often.

Steve looks sad for a second, but quickly replaces that with a determined and vaguely frustrated expression that is so very Steve. He looks around and runs his hand through his hair. (It’s styled differently than in any of your scrambled memories. You cannot comprehend why you notice this.) He nods, ‘I’ll grab some extra blankets and you can sleep on the bed.’ 


	4. Chapter 4

**Steve**

You put the milk away and leave the kitchen, Bucky following behind you. You pass the bathroom door before you get to the bedroom and rethink your plan somewhat. ‘You should probably bathe and change clothes first,’ you carefully put your hand on Bucky’s shoulder to turn him the other way, ‘I just put clean sheets on yesterday i’ll be damned if i’m gonna let you sleep there without at least a shower.’ You try not to acknowledge that Bucky doesn’t react to your joke. 

You point to the shower, ‘Can you figure out how to work it?’ He looks at it briefly before nodding. ‘Good; I’ll go find you some pajamas.’ You leave him alone and head back towards your bedroom and its disproportionately large closet. When did closets get so big? You don’t have enough clothes to fill even half of it despite Natasha’s attempts to remedy this. You think there’s a pair of pajamas she bought you that ended up being too small and too warm hidden at the bottom of a drawer somewhere.

It takes a minute or two but you finally spot a bit of grey fabric underneath some t-shirts. You’re starting to pull it out when you hear Bucky shout ‘Hey, Steve!’ He sounds almost furious and it startles you. You don’t actually fall backwards, but you do accidentally pull all the t-shirts out from on top of the pajamas. Once you’ve collected yourself you go check on him.

‘Do you need help?’ you ask carefully when you arrive at the door trying not to antagonise him in case he’s switched into attack mode again. When he waves his left arm slightly you set the pjs on the counter. Relieved, you step out of the doorway and put your hands on your hips ‘Oh. That is a problem.’ You have no clue how robotic arm prosthetics work, ‘Does it…come off?’ Its a moderately horrific suggestion, but you suppose its probably better than it being permanently attached. More practical?

Bucky shrugs at you indignantly, ‘Yeah Hydra was really forthcoming with that kind of information.’ Right. That was definitely sarcasm so that’s progress probably. 

You suddenly get an idea, and retreat to the kitchen briefly. You return holding up a grin and a box, ‘Plastic wrap! It’s supposed to be for storing food but you can use it to protect your arm. And I got a rubber glove too.’ Bucky doesn’t waste any time looking confused before holding up his arm to let you wrap it in the pink plastic. He pulls on the glove over it and looks in the mirror. You think he might actually smile. He is a ridiculous sight standing there with a hot pink arm and blue hand.

‘That’ll probably work.,’ you manage to get out between laughing, ‘And if something goes heinously wrong I can call Stark and he’ll probably be able to figure something out. Do you remember Howard?’  he shakes his head. ‘That’s okay. Well, it’s his son. You’ll like him.’ You stand there for a moment before fully realising you probably shouldn’t be gawking at your naked friend and leaving somewhat abashedly.

 

* * *

 

**Bucky**

He puts the glass in the fridge and leads you towards his bedroom. He doesn’t have a guest room, you notice. His apartment has an open sort of layout, so that if you sat in the right spots and the doors were open to just the right angles, you could see into any room from any other room. You wonder briefly if this is on purpose before you are interrupted by a hand on your right shoulder turning you gently in the other direction. ‘You should probably bathe and change clothes first,’ Steve suggests, ‘I just put clean sheets on yesterday i’ll be damned if i’m gonna let you sleep there without at least a shower.’ You can tell he’s trying to make jokes because he’s stressed out. You appreciate the effort, but you kind of wish he would stop. Laughing at jokes is something that you haven’t quite re-learned yet, and every time he makes one he gets this little disappointed look when you don’t laugh and it kills you. ‘Can you figure out how to work it?’ You nod, ‘Good; I’ll go find you some pajamas.’

He leaves you alone to figure out the shower. You take off the slightly tattered clothing you don’t remember getting and leave it in sort of a neat pile on the floor. The shower isn’t as complicated as it could be, which is nice. There’s only one knob simply labeled. You put it on the middle and wait for a second for it to get warm. You reach out your hand to test the temperature. You pull it back sharply when you see a metallic glint; you still forget sometimes, about your arm. You don’t even know if this arm is safe to be in water. Will it short circuit or die or something? You don’t know what to do now so you just stand naked in the bathroom, waiting for something. Orders. You’re waiting for orders. Fuck that. ‘Hey, Steve!’ you call out. It sounds angrier than you intended.

Steve appears in the still open doorway carrying a pair of soft-looking cottony pajamas and a ridiculously worried expression. His brow furrows even more at the sight of your frail-ish frame standing there looking sort of lost. ‘Do you need help?’ You wave your arm a bit at your side hoping he’ll get the picture.

He relaxes some now. You think he was afraid you had gone into whatever that state of mind is where you do things like choke him against his wall with enough force to make a hole in the plaster. You don’t blame him, you were too.  ‘Oh. That is a problem. Does it...come off?’

You shrug in response. ‘Yeah Hydra was really forthcoming with that kind of information.’ He looks at you funny before putting the pajamas on the counter and leaving. Ok, it was kind of mean, maybe. You didn’t think it was leave the room mean. Actually you thought he’d be pleased you were trying to be funny. He reappears with a narrow box and a big grin.

‘Plastic wrap! It’s supposed to be for storing food but you can use it to protect your arm. And I got a rubber glove too.’ He opens the box and pulls out about four feet of the pinkish transparent film. You lift your arm up to let him wrap the film around it then put the blue glove on over that. You look ridiculous. You almost crack a smile at your reflection. Steve all but giggles. ‘That’ll probably work. And if something goes heinously wrong I can call Stark and he’ll probably be able to figure something out. Do you remember Howard?’ You shake your head. ‘That’s okay. Well, it’s his son. You’ll like him.’ He stays in the door for a second before making an ‘I’m going now’ gesture and walking out somewhat sheepishly to let you shower.


	5. Chapter 5

**Steve**

While Bucky showers you decide to pick up your room a bit. You put back the t-shirts that had fallen earlier, and sort of sloppily make the bed. It’s pretty warm in there so you open a window too. You don’t think he’s likely to disappear again, but if he does want to, the open window will help. When Bucky walks in you only barely hear him. You suspect that without super-serum enhanced hearing, you wouldn’t at all. You turn around and make sure he can see your face before saying ‘Will you be okay to sleep here?’ He nods in response but seems uncertain, so you add ‘You don’t need anything?’

‘No, just,’ he pauses, trying to find the words, ‘where will you be?’ 

‘I put some blankets on the couch,’ you shrug, ‘I’ll leave the door open if you want.’ You aren’t going to let him know you want to keep an eye on him but, you hope he agrees to leave the door open for just that reason. He seems to be thinking about it but doesn’t say anything, which you take to mean it’s ok. You flick the lights off as you leave to set up the living room.

From where the couch is currently you can just about see the hallway entrance but the bedroom door is obscured by the wall. You push the couch over about three feet, cringing at the scraping noise as it moves across the wooden floor. Now if you lean past the back of the couch you have a straight line of sight to where Bucky is lying in your bed. 

You unfold the nearest blanket and stretch out on the couch, but you know you have no chance of actually falling asleep tonight. It’s not even that you’re worried about him leaving so much as you still can’t believe he’s here at all. You dont want him to slink off in the middle of the night and have no proof in the morning that any of this happened. At least if you watch him leave it will be harder to convince yourself it was a dream. So you try and still your breathing, you pull the blanket up to your ears, but you don’t close your eyes. 

After a few minutes you call across the apartment, ‘Night, Buck.’ You’re pretty sure he’s already asleep but it’s nice to be able to say it again.

 

* * *

 

 

**Bucky**

When you are clean and dressed in the grey and white pajamas you guide yourself towards the bedroom. Steve is opening the window when you walk in. ‘Will you be okay to sleep here?’ He asks, turning around. You nod. ‘You don’t need anything?’ 

‘No,’ you pause, ‘just, where will you be?’ You don’t want to take his bed from him. It seems like you’ll be staying here for a while. Steve probably sleeps better than you and you don’t really need it anyway. You usually don't sleep for several days at a time.

‘I put some blankets on the couch. I’ll leave the door open.’ 

You want to tell him you can take the couch. He doesn’t have to put in so much effort for you; he’ll freeze on the couch and get sick and die or something, the idiot. 

Uhm, no.

No, he’s really fine. He doesn’t need you to protect him… (anymore?) He leaves before you can object, flipping the light switch behind him.

You hear him push the couch over about... 2 or 3 feet if you’re math is right. Just far enough to see you through the bedroom door. You’re probably used to people watching you, so you guess it’s fine. You lay stiffly under the plush white duvet and really try to sleep. For the first time in a while actually. Usually when you sleep it’s only because you literally cannot keep your eyes open any longer. After ten minutes you are still awake. You can hear Steve’s breathing and you can tell by the rhythm that he’s not asleep either. 

‘Night, Buck.’ He shouts it so you can hear from the other side of the apartment, but it’s gentle. You can’t help but crack a small smile at the nickname. For once remembering things is actually a comfort instead of just making you anxious. You drop your guard just enough to let yourself sleep properly, and for the first night you can recall, your dreams aren’t nightmares. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2015 before civil war came out and it's not really compliant anymore but i still like it a lot actually, so heres some gratuitous fluff including excessive reference to the milk glass scene because i still thought that was good content 2 years ago, sorry.


End file.
